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Friday, 28 February 2014

A realisation came into me in the past few days. To teach love, one will make the student fall in love with him. But in the end, the student realises that it is she who is falling in love with herself all over again. There are so much misconceptions on love itself on earth, they make the love within us that is of the source, unrecognisable, forgotten, and even misdefined.

Monday, 10 February 2014

A movie about love, that truly had me put my knitting and crocheting down, because it has no dialogue. What held it together was the actors amazing pairs of eyes that spoke volumes and a well put together pieces of music that has no connection at all, but only evokes reminiscence of Charlie Chaplin's silent movie or the sound of the distant cry of abandoned animals.

It takes guts to make a romantic story without words. As Shakespeare puts it in "The Tempest":"Hear my soul speak: The very instant that I saw you, did my heart fly to your service."
How does the Graham Jones (director) succeeded in conveying these two lovebirds' love, without proper conversations between them?

For sure, you have to see the movie to know how. Although, I can tell you this.
Watch for the beautiful ocean scenery around the west coast of Ireland, Connemara National Park, and forests around Galway.

Think about this, if you don't count the meaningless conversations between you and your partner, such as, "Coming back for dinner?", "What time do you expect me to be at your office function?", and the sort, then, you'll know that between the two of you, you pretty much do not saying anything meaningful throughout the day.
Discounting the "I love you"s that became pretty much a drill.

Perhaps this valentine, you can look into your partner's eyes and tell her what you really feel without speaking a word. If she doesn't get it, try a sonnet?

"The Merchant of Venice" "One half of me is yours, the other half yours mine own, I would say; but if mine, then yours, and so all yours."

Tuesday, 4 February 2014

If I were a person living in the middle ages, I would be a woman who knows how to read (at that time, people outside the church did not learn how to read/write) and just so happen to have a black cat, and was fried at the stake.

Since then, I never choose a role that's boring as so called 'mainstream role'. Although I bought into 'mainstream' a long long time ago, thinking that I'd be an awesome accountant for the big 5 with a super IT husband and a pair of cutesy pie kids.

To have life turned out like what it is now, is like trying to go to London-England, but somehow ending up at London-Canada.

I guess I'm a 'mainstream defiler' and I've been given a very much non-mainstream child. Call her "special needs kid", call her "autistic", call her "naughty", I call her my love.

Everyday I wake up and thank the source for giving me the life that I never expected. That my world is so different from my peers' and that makes me ready for anything and everything.